


on top of the world

by kagako



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, but don't worry it's a good happy feely end i can't do sad ends or sad things, kagami feeling things and it doesn't know what to think bc of american stereotypes of gays oops, locker room kisses and confrontations in the locker room, so p much like almost every other story i'm sorry, so uhm a bit denial of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami Taiga's unsure what to do with these feelings--they're unfamiliar, yet good, and it makes him feel on top of the world. Though, he will admit he's wary since they revolve so much around his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on top of the world

**Author's Note:**

> i did something so similiar to this writing format (the first time, the second time, etc. etc.) with another fic of mine that i wanted to do it again.  
> especially for these two. uwu  
> this is my first fic for knb/kagakuro so yeehaw please spare me if it's ooc or some info is wrong.
> 
> inspired by 'on top of the world' by imagine dragons

The first time Kagami feels the twist in his stomach, he and Kuroko had just met. He’d forgotten how blunt and openly honest Japanese people are (or maybe this just applied to Kuroko, Kagami thought), so when his classmate confessed he’d be his shadow and make him the best basketball player in Japan, the redhead was a bit surprised. Nonetheless, he smiled at the smaller teen just the same, nodding with a new sort of excitement in his bones at the thought.

Later that night, he thought over about what he felt—the twist in his stomach, painful at first yet new and good and surprisingly enough, it made the redhead feel on top of the world. It made him feel like he could do anything, like he and Kuroko really  _could_ become the best in Japan, making their team the best in the process. Although Kagami wasn’t entirely sure what the twist in his stomach was, what the heat that bubbled in his blood was called—he figured it was something good, something he could get  _drive_  off of.

 _“I’ll be your shadow, and make you the best basketball player in Japan.”_  The words resounded in his mind, and there it was again—the heat, the twist in the pit of his stomach, the way he felt as if he could do anything. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile as he clenched his hand into a fist, letting out a deep sigh before bumping the back of his head against the wall he was seated against. “Alright,” he murmurs, shaky breaths of excitement leaving him as he tries to tame the roar within his chest.

*

The second time Kagami feels the twist in his stomach, they’re playing against Seihou. He’s on the bench since Riko fears he’ll get too many fouls (which all honesty is _complete_  bullshit, that Tsugawa guy rigged it all, Kagami knew for a fact; although he also (albeit stubbornly) knew they were saving strength for Midorima) and it came to the point in the game they have to substitute a player thanks to Koganei. Kagami had automatically insisted to play, almost  _begged_ for it—and when Kuroko’s hand hit him face to shut him up, something sparked inside him and he wasn’t sure if it was the roar he’d felt weeks ago, anger, or both.

Kagami wasn’t standing for that, however, and returned the favor in full; his large hand against Kuroko’s forehead, his fingers laced in his teammate’s pale blue hair as he squeezed his fingers. The redhead felt as though his hand was on fire, that fire spreading throughout his body and into his stomach, his chest, his  _head_ —and for a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, who he was with and what he was even doing until his teammate’s words came back to him and everyone started talking at once, it seemed.

After more discussion, narrowed brows and angry huffs of breaths exhaled by him and a few other people around him, Kagami sat back on the bench. For the first couple minutes, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d be seeing Kuroko in action without him—and immediately he relaxed the narrow of his brows, the way his mouth was set in a purse. Minutes passed and Kagami hadn’t even registered that he allowed a small  _“amazing,”_  slip out of his mouth at the sight, and after the coach’s comment on his little slip, Kagami allowed himself to watch more.

It was amazing, really, Kagami thought—the way Kuroko seemed to disappear and reappear, the way he passed smoothly and quickly, the way he seemed to just  _know_  where to be and who to pass it to once the time came; the way Kuroko’s expression changed just the tiniest bit, a hint of happiness and pure drive in his expression. It made him wonder how  _they_  looked together on the court, the expression on his teammate’s face whenever he caught his passes like he was meant to, or perhaps when they lock eyes as though to signal a pass.

And although winning the game was a great feeling all together, Kagami wasn’t sure what lit up the fire in his veins more: the moment the buzzer rang and the cheers from his team, or perhaps the glint of light in Kuroko’s expression when their eyes met, a silent word of victory passed between the two of them.

*

Kagami’s felt that twist in his stomach more times than he can count, and it didn’t take him long to notice how they seem to revolve around Kuroko. The knot in his stomach is there when they talk, when they sit across from each other at Maji Burger and when they’re on the court, alone together or with the team. It’s there when their arms brush as they walk side by side, when their hands clasp together as they help each other up if on the ground; it’s there as plain as day when they’re in the locker room, changing and they brush against each other, their skin bare as it happens and it’s all Kagami can do to not allow Kuroko to see the blush that took over his face or hear the hitch in his breath.

It’s weird to Kagami, the feelings and sensations that occur whenever Kuroko’s around, whenever he lets slip a smile or whenever there’s a hint of happiness in his voice or expression. That’s what kicks him in the stomach, making him want to reach out and touch his classmate’s face to see what reaction he’d make, to see if his face would color or if his breath would hitch if he kissed him. Yet still, a part of Kagami—perhaps the American part, the part that remembers the stereotypes and harsh words of  _gay_  and  _faggot_  and the phrase  _what kind of man are you, fag_ —can’t seem to allow himself to do anything with those feelings, those sensations of longing and want.

So he does nothing of it, goes about his day as normally as he can as he ignores the urges, the impulses; as he tries not to cave at the tone of Kuroko’s voice as he says,  _“Kagami-kun, is something the matter?”_  or  _“You seem distracted, Kagami-kun, is everything alright?”_  Kagami gives out a chuckle, waving his hand thoughtlessly as he puts on a seemingly reassuring smile and he tells him, “I’m fine, Kuroko,” with a laugh.

However, it hadn’t even occurred to Kagami that he’d begun avoiding the blue haired teen. Only when Koganei questioned why they never left school together did it register: the fact that he’d been doing it subconsciously for two weeks now, plus the side note that he hadn’t even noticed on his own. It made him fidget slightly, worry about whether or not Kuroko noticed—and apart of him is sure that he had and is surprisingly upset about it, yet the other part hopes for it and doesn’t feel upset at all.

 _Who needs to be confessed to by a guy, anway,_  he thinks, shrugging his bag closer to his person as he refuses to think anymore, walking his way back to his apartment.

*

Kagami knows he has a problem when he wakes up the next morning, brows furrowed and hand feeling as empty as ever. It’s probably because of the dream—a simple dream, sure, yet something about it felt so real to him that he’s a bit taken back when he realizes that’s just what it was: a dream. He was on an empty train with Kuroko, and he was holding his hand and it felt  _real_ —and that’s all they did, all that happened in that simple, yet seemingly blissful dream. Kagami held his hand, Kuroko held his; they were leaning against each other’s sides and his dark red hair mingled with Kuroko’s pale blue hair and it was  _comforting._

He swallows at the lump in his throat, linking his fingers together, similar to how they were in the dream. The way his chest tightens makes him keep his hands as such, and he remembers the sensations as if they were truly real—he remembers how Kuroko’s skin felt against his own, the way he smelled and the small noises that came from him when the train rattled. Kagami bites his lip then, hanging his head a bit before giving out a groan as he wipes away all thoughts and sensations from the dream— _can’t think about it_ , he tells himself.

Another thought comes to him as he’s getting dressed, brows furrowed and jaw clenched to keep his frown, the sensations all too real in his mind to keep up with. Kagami only realizes how true said thought is only when he remembers that Kuroko will be there for most of it. 

_Today’s gonna suck._

*

Basketball practice comes quickly, and it’s something that the redhead was thankful for. It allowed his mind to wonder, allowed his hands and his body to be busy, his mind working on the instructions coach gave them—no room for thought of the dream, the sensations that still linger. Despite the distance between him and Kuroko, he still received and played the blue haired teen’s passes, still glanced over his shoulder to see if that glint of light and joy was in his teammate’s face, in his eyes—yet when Kagami’s eyes were greeted with the back of Kuroko’s head, his stomach seemed to drop to the floor and  _damn_ he hated to admit it, but a part of him was frozen, petrified on the spot.

 _“Good job, Kagami!”_  and  _“Nice work, Kagami-kun,”_  filled the gym as he bent to get the ball, and he gave a small smile, nodding his head with a small word of thanks before averting his eyes back to Kuroko’s retreating form.  _Shit,_  he thinks, narrowing his eyes as he gives a sharp sigh, passing the ball to Izuki’s waiting hands.  _Even practice sucks._

*

Afterwards he stays behind, shrugging off the other member’s offers to help him. “It won’t take me that long, guys,” Kagami tells them, waving a hand to shoo them off before bending down to pick up a basketball. “Go on and get changed or leave or whatever it is you’re doing,” he says, and they do so, wishing him luck with the pick-up as the open the double doors, heading out for the day. The redhead gives a small nod before narrowing his eyes, heaving a sigh. Kagami wouldn’t admit it, naturally, but if he stayed in the gym for pick-up long enough, he thought, maybe he wouldn’t have to face Kuroko—wouldn’t be bombarded with the thoughts or the sensations.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking on his part—and he should have expected it, really; especially when his skin crawled in that  _Kuroko’s-here-but-I-can’t-feel-him-anywhere_  way. The red head ignores it, however, bowing his head the tiniest bit as he takes off the shirt he wears for practice. Kagami’s got the bottom half of the school uniform on before “Kagami-kun” greets his ears, a lot closer than he expected.

He swears in English, grits his teeth as he jerks on the shirt to the school uniform quickly before facing Kuroko, dark brows pulling together. “Don’t just  _appear_  like that, idiot!”

“It’s the only way I’d have been able to talk to Kagami-kun,” Kuroko tells him, pale blue eyes surprisingly not as blank as Kagami would have expected. “I apologize for scaring you,” he offers, eyes seeming to bore into the red head’s own, even as Kuroko sits down on the bench and he has to crane his neck up just to look at him.

Kagami sighs, turning back to the locker behind him as he says, “What do you want, then, Kuroko?” as he tries to busy himself with something— _anything_  inside his locker, anything to distract his hands so he doesn’t give into the impulse and reach to fellow classmate, take his face in his hands and ignore the heat that gathers at his ears and his cheeks and  _admit_  he’s been a jerk and he’s a complete idiot but it’s because he’s wary since it feels as though he likes Kuroko in a way that’s not frien—

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kuroko tells him bluntly, and Kagami pulls himself from his mind, clenching his jaw as he hears his shadow shift on the bench. “It seems.” This time it’s Kagami’s turn to shift on his feet, fingers and hands messing with his sweaty t-shirt from moments before as he focuses and tries not to think and— “Why are you avoiding me, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko’s voice questions, and there’s something in it that makes Kagami turn around, eyes trying to search the other’s face only to see the top of his head and not those surprisingly huge blue eyes.

“I’ve been avoiding you?” Kagami says then, stupidly, and right as the last syllable leaves his lips he wants to smack himself in the face—or better yet bang his head into the locker. _Can’t believe how lame that was,_ he thinks to himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them once more.

“Obviously,” the blue haired teen snaps quickly, hands clenching and unclenching on his lap, almost as if he himself is resisting the urge to hit Kagami—and really, Kagami wouldn’t blame the smaller teen if he did.

The taller lets out a groan, bringing up a hand to scratch at the side of his head before shutting his locker, leaning his back against them only to slide down to the floor. Kagami heaves a sigh, unsure of how to process words as his brows pull together, discomfort setting on his face. “Yeah, I know.”

“So Kagami-kun has been avoiding me?”

“Well, yeah, I gu—“

“Why?” Kuroko asks quickly, and even in the dim lighting of the locker room Kagami can see his jaw is clenched, can see the way his shadow’s brows are drawn together slightly, almost as if he’s determined to get something out of him. Which, Kagami figures, he is.

“Look, it’s not really that easy to explain, Kuroko—“ he tries, glancing up at the crack in the ceiling as he lifts a shoulder, letting it droop back down immediately in a half-shrug. “It’s not easy to explain,” he repeats, giving a sharp laugh because truly, that’s the only way he can explain it without feeling wrong about it.

“Try,” Kuroko urges, the harshness of his voice seeming to push against the red head’s ears, making him wince in response. “If it’s bad enough that you has to avoid me because of it, Kagami-kun, then—“

“No, er—it’s not  _bad_  at all, really, just—“

 _“What,_  then, Kagami-ku—?”

“It’s just weird and not right—or, well, I think it is yet it’s not and I’m feeling all these things and my stomach aches when I’m anywhere  _near_  you, Kuroko, and not in hungry way, even if I  _am_  hungry, but in a different way altogether and I’m even  _dreaming_  about you,” Kagami says quickly, the impulses and tension clearly too much. His dark eyes are wide with surprise as he looks anywhere but in Kuroko’s direction, his hands shaking in front of him as they move without thought or reason. “I mean, seriously, Kuroko,” he continues, giving a small scoff as he does so. ”Who dreams about their basketball partner, who in the  _hell_  dreams about holding their hand and who wonders how they’d react if they kissed them, who in the  _hell—“_  and suddenly his mouth is covered with a warm hand, and it takes Kagami a moment to realize it’s Kuroko kneeling beside him, head hung and (shaking?) hands against his mouth.

“Please be quiet, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko tells him, and he’s not sure if the dim lighting is playing tricks on his eyes or not, but Kagami could faintly see the pink tips of Kuroko’s ears peeking from his pale blue hair, the contours of his cheeks just as pink as the blue haired teen lifts his head, lips pursed and eyes wide with something like  _relief,_  it seems, and Kagami’s never seen this expression before, wants to stare at it forever if Kuroko would let him and— “Kagami-kun is… avoiding me because he likes me?”

The redhead can’t stop the heat that waves off him, then, the way his face seems to boil and the hint of embarrassment in his voice as he says,  _“Christ,_  you don’t have to say it so bluntly, Kuroko—“ while gently pushing away the other’s hand so he can speak.

That causes a small smile to play at Kuroko’s lips, and suddenly all the redhead wants to do is taste those lips, feel them against his own and— “Hmn,” the redhead noises then, brows furrowing as he thinks, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as Kuroko shifts, changing position to Kagami’s lap while arms easily slide around the redheads neck; a small, almost inaudible sigh is given from Kuroko and Kagami isn’t sure if it’s because this is more comfortable than kneeling or if the relief he heard in the sigh was his imagination. “Oi, Kuroko,” he continues, hands resting comfortably yet all too awkwardly on the other’s hips. When Kagami hears him murmur in response, he says, “Did you… know?” A moment passes in silence and he shifts uncomfortably before adding, “Do you… feel the—the same? Or something.”

“I had a feeling, though I wouldn’t say I knew,” Kuroko tells him, burying his face in the curve of Kagami’s neck and shoulder. The blue haired boy shifts again, settling his legs more comfortably on either side of Kagami’s hips before he speaks once more, a smile all too noticeable in the sound of his voice. “And yes, for… a while. Or something.”

A small noise sounds from Kagami’s throat as he scoots forward, burying his own face in Kuroko’s shoulder as he moves to give the other room to stretch his legs. He nuzzles at the smaller teen’s shoulder a bit, turning his head so his lips brush against Kuroko’s neck. “Could’a said something,” Kagami tells him, brows furrowing as he leans his cheek against the other’s collarbone.

“Perhaps,” he admits, nodding a bit as he does. “I had to be… sure that you felt similar, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko continues, lips curved into a small smile as he leans back, causing the redhead to follow suit only to have the blue haired boy’s forehead against his own. “Though, I do want you to apologize, Kagami-kun.”

 _“Haah?”_  he breathes out, bumping his forehead against the other’s roughly as he squeezes his hands at Kuroko’s sides. “Why do I…” Kagami pauses here, allowing himself to focus on the feel of Kuroko’s lips brushing against his own, how warm and soft they are; and how, seemingly, he can inhale through his mouth only to faintly taste the sweetness of a vanilla shake, almost, and—all too soon it’s gone and Kagami’s leaning forward, eyes shut on impulse as his brows furrow at the feel of emptiness. He can feel Kuroko’s breath hitting his lips, though, and that’s enough at the moment. “…have to apologize?” he finishes, leaning in to brush his lips against Kuroko’s—and it’s there again, the feeling of being on top of the world, the knot in his stomach and the heat flaring in his bones.

A breathy laugh escaped the blue haired teen as he leans back, shifts himself so he stands on his knees, legs still straddled on either side of Kagami’s thighs. “Kagami-kun is an idiot, after all,” he says plainly, lips curved into a smile as he slides his fingers into the redhead’s hair, resting his chin on top of his head. “Since you’re an idiot, you kept me waiting longer than I would have liked to. With this whole ‘like’ thing,” he adds, just for clarification.

Kagami gives out a snort, carefully tilts his head back to look up at Kuroko; and he can’t help the warmth that radiates from throughout him as he feels Kuroko’s forehead against his, the other’s breath seeming to melt on his lips as he says, “Sorry I made you wait, Kuroko,” before pressing a kiss against his lips, soft and reassuring that  _yes,_  he’s been waiting for this, too.


End file.
